Dress Me Like A Doll
by DeliriumsCry
Summary: *Updated* Okee...chapter 3 is up. Duncan is exposed...sort of. Please review! This might be the last chapter! (Synopsis: Rogue is crucified and dying)
1. Crucify

Author's Note: Okay…this story is for all you Scouge fans, as many of my other stories are, however, this one will be much more gruesome, so to speak…perhaps the word is gory. Anyway, it's a pretty intense incident that brings Rogue and Scott together…eventually.  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to any of the characters mentioned in the following story.  
  
  
  
"NO!" empty cries rang through the vacant football field, "You don't know what you're doing! STOP! Don't touch me!" She screamed. Rogue hollered, and roared, but all she got in reply was snickering. The football team had singled her out. There were to many to count, to hold off. Why were they attacking her? They were wearing gloves, smart on their part, but how could they have known not to come in contact with her skin. It didn't matter; they were undressing her now, and she had learned to control he mutation…finally. The gloves were to protect her from fingerprints. Evidence.  
  
"Stop it!" Rogue was weeping now, screaming, and kicking, but five boys pinned her down. Two at her arms, two at her legs, and one to hold her head and shoulders straight. A figure loomed above her, his blond hair shading his eyes, and his menacing mouth spread in a delectable smirk. Duncan.  
  
"Why!? Why're ya' doin' this ta' me?!" Duncan just scanned down, walking about her in an antagonizing circle, tossing his words out like he was playing a game.  
  
"We all know that the best way to get to Summer's, is to get to his friends. His weakness. He doesn't deserve Jean, and on account of the fact I want her back, it'd be kind of a mistake to do this to her, don't you think? You're the next best thing. The closest one to his heart. We all know that too." So that's what this was about. Jean dumped Duncan for Scott, or so, every one thought. Scott and Jean were still just friends however, and Rogue had to admit, she was upset, jealous that Scott chose Jean, even though it was never official, but she never really made it known how she felt. She loved the boy, and had let it go. Duncan was trying to hurt Scott through her.  
  
Rogue's cries had subsided, and she spoke now, in a near whisper, "So, what're y'all gonna' do ta' me?"  
  
Duncan stopped, standing just above her head, and bent down slightly to look into her bulging, frightened eyes.  
  
"Something Summer's will never forget. Something he'll always wonder about, and always ask why about. And he'll always wonder who, because, we have no intention of letting you live to let anyone know about this, but, believe me, this is something right up your alley. It's the kind of thing that no one would suspect a high school football team of." With that terrifying comment, Rogue was turned flat on her stomach, the wet grass causing goose bumps to spread over her body. She heard the rustling of a plastic bag, and she could see it just out of the corner of her eye, filled to the brim, and double layered so it would hold everything without ripping. One of the boys pulled out a whip. Rogue began to panic.  
  
"NO! No stop! You don't know what yer' doing!" A hand went quickly over her mouth, holding on so tight she couldn't open it enough to bite the retched limb away. There was a crack in the air, and then leather met flesh in a crisp and maniacal blow. Rogue screamed, she was hysterical, and the blows kept coming, each scream more blood curdling and raw then the previous. She could hear some one counting.  
  
"5…12…17…21…30…39. Stop. Jesus was only given 39 lashes." Rogue feared now, as the thought hit her, her eyes stinging with tears, and her back sticky with sweat and blood. They were going to crucify her. That's what the cross erected on the 50-yard line was for. To hang her from. Rogue had no more screams, and the lonely tears just came.  
  
The boys dragged her towards the splintering wooden monument, one straying behind, holding the bag filled with her torture. Two of the players propped her up and Rogue whimpered, as she was smashed against the back pole.  
  
"Hey, were the hands, or the feet first?" a faceless boy asked.  
  
"Idiot, the wrists!" another answered.  
  
Slowly, her arm was raised, and with blurry eyes, she watched as a third boy, holding her arm, positioned a thick nail over the center of her wrist. Another came with a hammer.  
  
"Please…" She pleaded, there was no answer. The spike was driven in with one mighty thrust. Rogue let out another scream, sounding like a dead animal. The other wrist was soon pinned. She was still being held up, and gently, her feet were over lapped, blood dripping to the ground from her fractured arteries. Another spike was driven into her body, two hits this time. Her feet were pinned, her body was dropped and now, Rogue couldn't breath. Pushing up to breath tore her feet, but to relieve the pain in her feet she had to crumple her body so she couldn't get any air.  
  
"We don't have a spear, but this will work." Rogue heard the spring of a switchblade jump.  
  
Duncan approached the crumpled girl's body. He drove the 6-inch blade into her side, and ripped it out, the only sound from Rogue, a muffled, "Mmph." Blood was dripping from her mouth, and Duncan wandered around to her other side, repeating the same action, he left the blade there.  
  
"One last touch." Duncan spoke, pulling a white tablecloth and carefully weaved crown of thorns from the now empty bag. He walked to Rogue, towering below her as she was erected high above him. He tossed up the cloth, a corner catching over her shoulder, and clinging to her wet, bloody body, covering her right breast and hip. He pulled it, so it would wrap mostly around her, and it covered her private area, lastly, he tucked the dirtied cloth between her and the wood. For his final act of cruelty, Duncan stood as tall as he could, and tossed the crown onto Rogue's head, patting it down violently and piercing her fair skin. The blood rained down her face in thick drools of crimson color. Rogue could no longer feel the sound in her throat, and gurgled slightly as the boys picked up their stuff and took off, the only evidence of there existence the blade still lodged in Rogue's side.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: All right, that was the prologue. If you liked it, you have to drop me a line, if not, well, then flame me. Either-0r, lemme' know. Now, I am in the process of working on the next chapter and it will be here soon If you people review!  
  
Next Chapter: Rogue's found, and still alive. How does Scott react to the whole ordeal, and, why won't Rogue speak about her assailant(s). 


	2. Fractured Fairytale

Authors Note: YAY for revision! Okay, so this is the next installment to my little fractured fairytale (I LOVE THAT TERM!), and it's totally different from the last chapter 2, so...enjoy!  
  
~~*~~  
  
Jean. All he heard was Jean. The screams were vicious tearing through the air like a hungry hawk, and the terrified students skittered through the colorless halls in the early morning. He could hear her screech, an atrocious dirge of panic. He evaded the crowd. What had happened? Odd enough Rogue hadn't come home the night before, and now Jean. He couldn't handle this. Why was everyone so panicked? Through the locker room and gym, onto the field he ran. All he saw was Jean, dressed for her first period cheerleading practice. He rushed to her, ignoring the others around him.the passed out Kitty, disbelieving Kurt, Evan who had vomited. Only Jean mattered, and he reached her with open arms, her back turned and one hand casing her mouth. No matter the outlandish shadow that loomed over her. She had to be okay! He shook her out of her daze, flipping her to face him.  
  
"Jean!" He cried, his voice shuddering with a sort of apprehension.  
  
"Rogue." She whispered in return to him, almost unheard.  
  
Scott stepped away from her. Rogue? What about Rogue? Scott took the time then to become aware of the anomalous silhouette that fell over he and Jean. He looked up. NO! His head screamed, but his voice could not create the words. All he could see was blood. Blood on her face. Blood on her arms. Blood pooling beneath her. Beneath the cross she had been crucified upon. Why? WHY?!  
  
"Rogue!" He jumped about Jean, dodging for Rogue. He ran like never before. Scott rested beneath her, his shoes splashing in her blood as her stepped onto the grass, waterlogged red with her vital essence.  
  
He jumped up, grabbing her wrist, tugging on it vainly, ignoring the dizzy reds and blues that spun his way. He disregarded the ambulance, and the cops.  
  
"Someone, get him off her!" a faceless paramedic cried.  
  
Scott ignored the deputies yelling at him. He had to get her down!  
  
"NO!" he screeched as the deputies pulled him away.  
  
"NO!" he kicked, "NO!" he screamed.  
  
It was an ordeal, and as Scott was torn away, the paramedics without delay replacing his spot, he snagged the cloth, carelessly tossed and tucked over her body and it dropped, the crimson substance soaking through from the drenched ground below. Scott didn't want to see her like this. And in shock, he simply stopped his hysteria and was thrown desperately into a state of shock. He knew that knife, but from where!  
  
As the deputies began to loosen their grip on the comatose boy, Scott lunged forward, ripping the knife from Rogue's fractured side. He couldn't leave it there!  
  
"Stop him!" her heard a deputy cry. "He's obstructing the crime scene!"  
  
He was tackled to the ground this time, but none of that mattered. Rogue had made a sound when he released the knife from her, and her estranged whimper meant.she was ALIVE!  
  
~~*~~  
  
The stretcher was raced down the tiny hall, nurses fleeing to it from here and there, trying to calm the spurting blood from the injured woman's wrists. Scott held tight to the side of Rogue's moving bed, slipping now and then on the blood that dripped onto the floor.  
  
"What happened?" a faceless doctor asked, running to the stretcher.  
  
"She was nailed to a cross." A nurse replied. The doctor looked up for a moment, a flash of hopelessness in his old eyes.  
  
A nurse pulled Scott away from the stretcher, it disappearing behind swinging doors.  
  
"Sir, I'm sorry, you can't go in there."  
  
"NO!" Scott protested, pushing himself forward.  
  
"Sir, it's against hospital protocol." She explained to him, and before he had a chance to try again, something grabbed his shoulder.  
  
"Come on, shades. We're here, and there's nothing we can do now." Scott could never once before recall Logan's features quite so dark. They had all already given Rogue up for dead, but no. He couldn't do that. He knew she would live. She had to live.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Kitty's fingers clamored clumsily over the numbers on the pay phone. She didn't know why, but she had to let Lance know. Everyone had to know.and as much as she hated to admit it, now or ever, she needed him. Why did he have to ditch today? Why did they all have to ditch? The phone began to ring.  
  
"Hello?" the female voice frightened Kitty at first, she had to admit she was afraid of Wanda, but, sighing heavily, she pressed herself forward.  
  
"I need to speak with Lance."  
  
"Right." Was her only answer, and in moment's, another voice came onto the line.  
  
"What do you want?" his harsh voice cut at her.  
  
"Lance!" Kitty cried, almost falling back into hysterics.  
  
"Oh, Kitty, it's you. Are you okay? Why aren't you at school?" he asked, sounding a bit more concerned than he would have liked.  
  
"Lance, you need to come to the hospital!" she drawled out.  
  
"The hospital? Why? Kitty, what happened?!" A crowd gathered slowly, and nonchalantly, Todd hit the speakerphone button. So he and the others could hear.  
  
"Rogue's hurt. She's dying." Once more, control escaped Kitty Pride and she fell into a series of racking sobs.  
  
Piertro was stunned. What had she said? Rogue was dying? How could this be, he cast his eyes around. Fred, Todd, Lance, and Mystique were stricken with heart broken looks, but Wanda, he face was placid, almost smirking. How could she not remember? How could she not of put two and two together? Didn't she care about Marie? Didn't she know Rogue was Marie? He wanted to slap her, and.he didn't hesitate to.  
  
"Wipe that look off your face!" he screamed.  
  
"How dare you!" she yelled back.  
  
"Wanda, I thought you cared! Didn't Marie mean anything to you? When we were kids, didn't you care at all?!" Piertro stared into her metal eyes.  
  
"Marie...is Rogue?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.  
  
Piertro just nodded his head.  
  
"Marie is Rogue. And Marie is dying."  
  
~~*~~  
  
Author's Note: So.yeah. Well, that was the revised chapter 2. I hope you didn't all hate it. Well, still, I know you're probably over this story, but lemme' know if you liked this chapter 2, or the other better. Okay? Thanks!  
  
Next Chapter: "The blood runs cold inside, doesn't it, Summers?" Duncan sneered at him. "To watch someone you care about slip away."  
  
"It was you, wasn't it?" Scott stepped back at his own words.  
  
"Bingo." 


	3. Young Lovers

"Well, being realistic, it's a miracle she made it through the night. She must have been up there for hours."  
  
"Is she going to be okay?" Raven Darkholme asked, her face contorted in a strange sort of concern.  
  
The doctor cast his eyes over the white room, as though trying to avoid the question. Professor Xavier looked up to him.  
  
"Is she going to be okay?" he asked once more.  
  
The doctor released a heavy sigh, his lips pursing slightly, "It's touch and go right now, no one can say for sure. We'll just have to wait."  
  
"What do you think?" the Professor asked.  
  
"In my honest opinion," he began, "No. I don't think she's going to survive this."  
  
The doctors excused himself then, leaving the Professor and Mystique to their own. Mystique choked back what was fighting the brims of her eyes, and she stared out the window of the tiny, isolated room the ER doctor had brought them to. At least he had the courtesy to tell her and Xavier alone.  
  
"What shall we tell them?" she asked in a near whisper.  
  
"You're her mother. I'll leave it up to you." He answered with a lamenting tone.  
  
"Let's not tell them yet. There's still hope.isn't there?" She turned her blue face to look at Charles, and he nodded to her slowly.  
  
"Yes. There is."  
  
~~*~~  
  
Jean sat at he table, twisting her lanky fingers in her tenderly red hair, and avoiding Scott's darkly shaped eyes. They were waiting in the cafeteria for Duncan to arrive. Scott hated the idea of him coming, but Jean said she had needed him. And, as on queue, the blond haired boy ducked through the door. Jean stood up, racing to him, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Scott wasn't upset to see Jean hugging Duncan, but to see his friend hugging a jerk.he didn't feel that twinge.  
  
"I'm going to go clean my face off. I look a mess." Jean excused herself hurriedly, leaving Scott and Duncan together.alone.  
  
"The blood runs cold inside, doesn't it, Summers?" Duncan sneered at him. "To watch someone you care about slip away."  
  
Scott looked at Duncan. What? What was he saying? It couldn't be? Why.would he do such a thing? "It was you, wasn't it?"  
  
"Bingo." Duncan touched his finger to his nose, winking.  
  
"How could you?! You're going to suffer for this!" Scott sniveled out, charging for him with a balled fist.  
  
"How're you going to prove it?" Scott stopped suddenly. That's right, how was he going to prove it?  
  
"No one's going to believe you if you say anything. Face it, Summers, I win."  
  
Before Scott could retaliate with a comment, Jean had returned, and Duncan and he were silenced.  
  
"Let's go back upstairs." Jean spoke softly.  
  
The two boys glared at each other.  
  
~~*~~  
  
The collection of worried faces overflowed the waiting room, and, with a growing collection of reporters and photographers. This was such a deal.didn't people know she might not live? When a nurse came out to the room, it flared with questions that were eager and repulsive. Reporters were vultures.  
  
"Is she okay?"  
  
"How big were the nails?"  
  
"How long had she been there?"  
  
"Do you think this has something to do with the occult?"  
  
The nurse stared at them all, disgusted.  
  
"Someone get these guys out of here!" she yelled, security fulfilling her request. The entire display was sickening. Why did such a curiosity prevail among the press?  
  
"May I see the mother, please?" The nurse asked, now calmed down. She smiled kindly upon Raven as she approached, and Raven's façade smiled back, slightly.  
  
"She is slightly conscious." She began in a whisper. "The doctor's don't think she has much longer, and thought you'd like to say goodbye while you could."  
  
Mystique placed her hand over her mouth, now ignoring the few tears that slipped through her eyes. The nurse excused herself, and as she disappeared down the hall, Raven sunk to the floor. How could this be?  
  
Logan had been the first to accompany her on the floor, followed by Peirtro, and they looked at her puzzled.  
  
"What did she say?" Logan asked gently, helping her stand again. They were all allies in this.  
  
"She's dying," Raven whispered. "They said that I should go see her, because she's dying."  
  
Logan closed his eyes fretfully, and nodded, and Peirtro stepped back slightly. Rogue really was going to die. It seemed impossible.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Scott was the first to arrive in the waiting room, Jean and Duncan hanging back, and the dark expressions didn't escape his view. What had happened? Did she.no! She couldn't have, he wouldn't believe it.  
  
"What happened?!" Scott demanded from the quiet room. Xavier wheeled to him, looking up with mournful eyes.  
  
"Mystique's back there right now, with Logan. She's dying, Scott. The think she could go any second. They can't save her."  
  
Scott stepped away, and before anyone cold realize what was going on, he dodged through the swinging doors of the ICU. He had to see her.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"Rogue?" Mystique asked gingerly, smoothing her back.  
  
Marie moved slightly, her gray-blue eyes fluttering open slightly. She tried to move one of her hands, but the IV and Blood Transfusion kept it at bay.  
  
"Momma..?" she asked quietly.  
  
"That's right," Mystique answered in a happy whisper.  
  
"Oh, Rogue!" She cried suddenly, "I'm so sorry! I never treated you like a daughter. I never showed you that I loved you! I'm so sorry, so sorry." she drawled out in a shaky tone.  
  
"Momma." Rogue cooed, "Let's just call it a truce.even though you're the mother of lies. Let's let things be as they were, when I knew you loved me." How silent she was, how cracked and calloused her voice sounded!  
  
"Rogue." Mystique whispered.  
  
"Who else is there?" the broken girl asked quietly. "Logan, is that you? I can't see you. Where are you?" she asked in a near panic.  
  
Logan stepped forward, touching her hand gently. "I'm here, Stripes." She smiled. There were more footsteps. Frantic ones.  
  
"Who else is there? I can't see anything now." Her eyes still remained open, she wasn't going to live much longer.  
  
"Rogue." the voice said mournfully.  
  
She smiled tenderly, as she heard him come around to the opposite side of the strange bed than the others.  
  
"Scott." she said quietly, molding her lips just right to say his name.  
  
"I'm here." He said. Another attempt, and Rogue reached her hand up, and it brushed his face ever so gently.  
  
"You're crying." Rogue said, turning her head to his. Her eyes were going blank. He couldn't stand this, and he stepped back violently.  
  
"Logan!" he cried. "You can save her! Just touch! You can save her, please!"  
  
"We tried that kid, she." Logan was cut off by Rogue's tender voice.  
  
"I said no." she finished for him.  
  
"What?" Scott asked, flabbergasted.  
  
"It's over, Scott." She said in a near whisper. "It's.over."  
  
"NO!" Scott ran to her side, taking her hand gently, and tugging.  
  
"Rogue, we need you here. I need you!" Wait.what? The thought had never hit Scott like that before. He did need her! He did! He loved her.  
  
"Please." he begged.  
  
With a slow consistency, the nurse entered, writing something on her chart. She couldn't help but cry. She could see this boy loved her, and, it was a true pity. The girl was going to be gone any second. The bastard who did this to her deserved to die.  
  
Cautiously, Rogue dragged his hand to her face, and kissed the top of it gently.  
  
"Keep Duncan away from Jean," Rogue began, "I don't want him hurting her too." That was it! That's what Scott needed. The nurse dropped her clipboard, running to the receptionist desk. The police needed to be notified, this bastard, this Duncan needed to die.  
  
Now, the three were left, and Rogue's chest was rising sporadically, she couldn't breath.  
  
"And..." she was wheezing, " Scott.I love." she began to cough, and it was horrible seeing the blood tinge the corners of her mouth and as if in slow motion, she calmed to nothing, the only sound in the room, the steady sound of a blank heart monitor. And, as Scott looked away from her, still clasping her hand, he noticed something written on Rogue's chart.a little scribble the nurse had put there.  
  
"Young lovers suffer the pain of love."  
  
~~*~~  
  
Author's Note: Well, I hope you all liked that chapter.I'm not sure if there's going to be some kind of miracle and she's magically revived or if I should just leave it at this. I think either way I want to make a sequel. Oh well, you review and let me know. 


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